


If We'd Kissed in High School

by seasalticecream32



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:57:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasalticecream32/pseuds/seasalticecream32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yes, well, I need something that says ‘Terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding even though your potential husband was an absolute twat.’ ” Arthur eyed a bouquet of Peruvian lilies, raising an eyebrow at the exotic, way out of season flower. “Except maybe just the terribly sorry part.”</p><p>Modern AU where Merlin is a florist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We'd Kissed in High School

Merlin jumped and nearly toppled off the ladder. He hadn’t had a customer all day and hadn’t really expected one. He never had many customers when the weather was bad. He’d heard booms of thunder for hours now.

No one could say he wasn’t productive. Instead of sitting behind the counter eating cookies and reading his newest _Dragonlord_ book, he’d freshened up the banners and displays. He’d just begun rearranging the wreaths Freya donated when the customer came barging in, mumbling curses under their breath when they hadn’t seen him.

“May I help you?” He asked, climbing down.

The person’s head snapped up under their soaked hood. Blue eyes and gold hair and scowling lips all crashed into Merlin’s vision and he felt like he was in high school again. He blushed like the nerd he was, and was thankful for the apron (even if it was frilly and purple) for hiding the BIPRIDE shirt he’d tossed on that morning. He’d never _officially_ come out to Arthur. The last time they’d talked it hadn’t been on good terms.

He wondered if Arthur knew he worked here before barging in. Judging from the deepened scowl, Merlin was willing to bet he hadn’t. Forcing his lips into what he hoped passed for a smile, Merlin waved. High school crush or no, Arthur was still a customer.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” Merlin moved towards his expensive stock. He was well aware that Arthur wouldn’t settle for anything cheap. “You must need something special if you came all the way out in the rain.”

A boom of thunder and hail popping on the roof punctuated Merlin’s words. He rather wished weather wouldn’t do that. He had a hard enough time when the rain wasn’t emphasizing his point.

“Yes, well, I need something that says ‘Terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding even though your potential husband is an absolute twat.’ ” Arthur eyed a bouquet of Peruvian lilies, raising an eyebrow at the exotic, out of season flower. “Except maybe just the terribly sorry part.”

Merlin stepped away from a much more practical hydrangea arrangement. “In my experience, Arthur, people who nearly get married generally have more than enough flowers. Perhaps you should go for a cookie instead? Or something… else, at least?”

Arthur crossed his arms and stood petulantly in the middle of the “special occasions” section of the prearranged floral pieces. “No, I’m quite certain I want flowers for this, _Mer_ lin.”

It was a testament to how fucked up their relationship had been Arthur's arrogancemade Merlin’s spine tingle. His name hadn't been said like that in five years. Merlin narrowed his eyes and mumbled a “Yeah, ok,” before walking towards the back selection.

He pulled a few hyacinth from their places, picking three of the fullest blues and three of the darkest purples. He cut the stems long, tied them with a yellow ribbon with the knot on the right, and arranged them in a basket. He held them for a moment and imagined the weight of Arthur’s regret. He smiled at the simple bell flowers, impressing into them the washing away of trouble and forgiveness and friendship. When their purpose was fully understood, he turned back around with a too-large smile on his face.

“I think your friend will enjoy these. The hyacinth is a well-known apology flower. It’s simple enough they may even believe you picked it out yourself.” He handed the basket over and stepped behind the counter.

“I doubt she’ll believe I picked them out, but what’s that matter.” Arthur shifted awkwardly on his feet, holding the basket as if it might catch fire. “You really shouldn’t hand over merchandise before you’ve been paid. What if I just ran out?”

“Then Morgana would have your ear and you’d have to come back and pay me anyway. What, are you planning on stealing from me, Arthur?” Merlin chuckled, even as he rung up the only bouquet he’d sold all day for half of it's worth.

“No.” Arthur scowled again, and rummaged around his pocket. He tossed down a handful of bills and left. He didn’t even say thank you.

Merlin counted the bills and was not at all surprised to find triple what he charged. The prat had never been good with prices.

He shrugged and put the money away, content to go back to fixing the store.

*****

The next time Arthur stepped foot in Merlin’s store, Merlin was busy with a very cranky bride-to-be. He told her a one hundred and eight piece arrangement for her centerpiece would take a while and cost quite a large sum, but she insisted she needed it in two hours. He wasn’t sure why she was just now coming to him. Her girlfriend didn't help with her sympathetic looks. Apparently, the bride’s mother was attending and _surprise, surprise!_ the two hadn’t talked in ten years. He was red-faced and shaking by the time the hysterical woman finished yelling at him and crying about the lack of dark blue roses to line the outside of the piece.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do such a large arrangement in so little time. I know your wedding is tomorrow and your dress rehearsal is in two hours.” He took a breath, and spoke quickly when the woman looked ready to start again. “I know it is very important to see everything together and ensure that everything coordinates. I'll do my best, but I’m afraid you leave me very few options. I had several appointments lined up today with customers whose special events are just as important as yours.”

“But MINE is tomorrow!” She was hysterical again, and even her girlfriend’s soothing arm on her shoulder didn’t help. “You florists are all the same! I bet you have all your arrangements shipped in any way!”

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I—” Arthur stepped forward, interrupting Merlin's defense, arms crossed and face serious. His blue button up stretched tight across his shoulders lined up with Merlin's nose from where he sat at his stool.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, is there a problem here?” Arthur’s low voice and narrowed eyes were far more intimidating than the security guard uniform. “I understand you’re upset, but if you continue making a scene, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The woman’s face was pale, her hands dropped by her side. She looked around helplessly and burst into another bout of tears. “Ijustwantedtogetmarriedwithouteverythingfallingapart, but my florist ran off with his assistant and didn’t finish my centerpiece and didn’t leave a number and now my mum’s shown up and the table’s bare and I don’t want to see her smug face when she says ‘ _the Lord works in mysterious ways.’_ I just really wanted a lovely wedding.”  

By the time she’d finished, Merlin’s will had crumbled away. He was really overbooked and he really didn’t have the flowers to make this centerpiece and he really shouldn’t make a habit of using his magic like this, but he would regardless. He saw Arthur watching him, arms still crossed. Merlin sighed.

“Look, I can’t get anything to you in the next hour, but if you’re willing to trust me I can get it to you by tomorrow. I can see what kind of discount I can work for you.” He tried to keep the pre-emptive exhaustion from his voice, but wasn’t sure he’d succeeded when Arthur rolled his eyes.

“But the—” the woman started, but she smiled a watery smile when her girlfriend’s elbowed her in the rib. The couple mumbled through the delivery set up and left much happier. Now Merlin had twice as much work to do than before they’d come in.

He turned to Arthur with another sigh and a rueful smile. “Thanks for stepping in. I’m terrible when it comes to crying.” He shook his head and sat back on a stool behind the counter, propping his head on his fist. “What can I get for you?”

“Something friendly that also says ‘please never talk to me again.’” Arthur shifted on his feet and poked at a stack of bookmarks on Merlin’s counter. “Something business appropriate.”

“You have the strangest requests.” Merlin shook his head, contemplating. “How’d the hyacinths go?”

“The what?”

“The apology flowers?” Merlin didn’t look back as he hopped up and rounded the counter. “For the person with the twat husband?”

“Potential husband. They didn’t end up getting married.” Arthur shrugged and followed after Merlin. “I was right, he is a twat. Now she’s with Morgana. Doing much better.”

“Is that why you did it then?” Merlin eased a few larkspur from their holdings and set them in a vase. He filled it with heather and lined it with yellow chrysanthemums by the time he realized Arthur hadn’t answered him. “Arthur?”

Despite his earlier chivalry, Arthur’s moodiness had returned. He frowned, eyes glued to Merlin’s hands as he arranged the flowers. Merlin checked to make sure no strands of golden light gave him away, but found nothing unusual.

He pushed Arthur’s mood aside and concentrated on pushing feelings of _friendly departure_ and _easy endings_ into the petals and towering stems.

“I didn’t ruin a wedding to get my sister a date, _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin’s hand paused where he fussed with a sprig of heather tilted too far to the right. “Right, of course. That’s not at all something you would do.” His voice shook a bit, but when he turned around, he had pasted on another smile. “Here you go then. Don’t worry about paying for this one. You overshot the last one by quite a bit so you have a fair amount of credit. This should use it up.”

Merlin passed over the vase, eyeing the uniform again. He was tempted to ask. Arthur had been assured a position in his father’s business when he and Merlin said goodbye senior year. Merlin didn’t think the position had been a security guard. Even if it had been, Arthur wasn’t the type to stay at any kind of non-leadership role for long. Arthur tossed down a handful of bills and ran off again before Merlin could fully form the question, .

Merlin counted with furrowed brows and found Arthur barely managed to cover the arrangement. With a shrug, Merlin put the money in a drawer and cleared out Arthur’s credit and bunkered down to create the impromptu centerpiece.

Any other florist would never have finished the piece on time. Merlin was Merlin, however, so he spent the entire night crafting flowers from magic, and imbuing them with calm and gaiety and peace, battling a smug little smile that could crush a room.

He didn’t need a vindictive mother to know the pain of one. Nimueh had covered that well enough any time Merlin had been in Arthur’s house.

Two weeks later the couple came in tanned and beaming to thank him for the centerpiece. They told a lively story of how the offensive mother was silenced at the sight of his work and didn't speak the rest of the night.

*****

Merlin wondered if Arthur liked anyone in his life. He came into the store frequently. Merlin was surprised every time the bell chimed and it was grumpy golden boy Arthur. He noticed Arthur usually came when it was raining and the store was empty. He always had a look on his face that could sour milk.

His requests were along the lines of:

“I need something that says ‘I had a good time, but also don’t want to see you anymore.’”

Or,

“Do you have anything that says ‘Please forget my number?’”

And once it was as bad as,

“I need something that says ‘Stay the fuck away from my sister, you arse, but also, don’t break my best friend’s heart by never talking to her again.’”

That particular time, Merlin shook his head and said “I don’t have any flowers that say that, mate. You’re going to have to talk that one out.”

Arthur left grumbling about ‘useless florists’, but the next week he was back again.

Sometimes Arthur didn’t have any requests beyond “Just make it something nice.” Which, Merlin guessed, was better than “I want something to nicely say fuck off.”

Eventually, Arthur stayed and took the receipts Merlin printed off.

Their conversations became less stilted, their smiles less tense, and their postures less defensive. For the first time in five years, Merlin believed he might get at least one of his friends back. Even if only in passing conversation and vague, contradictory bouquet requests.

He should’ve known better.

After all, every time Arthur stopped by, it stormed.

*****

He almost didn't open the store. He was beyond sick and the towering stack of orders were not going to help him get better. If not for the fact at least half of those orders had to be done that day, he probably would have stayed home. As it was, he did his best to keep the customers satisfied with simple bouquets and easy arrangements, sending most of them off with work he’d done the day before. The rest of his limited energy went to the stacks of requests.

He was sitting, hand in his hair and eyes squinting at the ridiculous tiny writing on a detailed order, when Arthur came in. Merlin was too tired to think of the red lines around Arthur's eyes or the slight sniffle as he crossed the store. He didn’t look up until Arthur knocked loudly on his counter and harrumphed impatiently.

“What is it, Arthur?” Merlin rubbed at his itchy eyes and tried to blink Arthur into focus. Fever burned on his tongue and slowed his thoughts. “What crazy combination have you thought up today?”

Maybe if he wasn't so exhausted or sick he would have noticed Arthur’s hunched shoulders or the paleness of his cheeks or his nearly dead expression on. Maybe if he’d not been moving on autopilot through every date and signature, he would have realized what day it was. None of those things were true and so none of those things happened. So Arthur’s monotone answer just about knocked him over.

“Do you have anything that says ‘hey, I’m sorry about your dead wife, but I’m very much alive and if you’d stop mourning for a day or two, that would be lovely?’”

Merlin pushed away from his table and shuffled around the back before he fully registered what Arthur said. He stumbled and turned to see Arthur in front of his counter staring very hard at where Merlin had been sitting.

April 23rd.

It was Arthur’s birthday… and the anniversary of his mother’s death. Arthur was here. Something bad had happened.

He’d come to Merlin.

“Arthur?” Merlin walked behind Arthur, holding his hand out tentatively. “I don’t think you need flowers today, Arthur.” He ran a hand over Arthur’s back, watching the muscles in his strong jaw clench.

“I didn’t ask you what I needed.”

Merlin pulled his hand away and bit back a retort. Technically, that’s exactly what Arthur had done. Just in a less general, friendly way. Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know, this one’s on the house. I insist.” Merlin hobbled to his selection of flowers and pulled some to contemplate the arrangement. He didn’t turn or acknowledge Arthur.

He could have picked anything. He knew Arthur didn’t know, or care, what they meant. Merlin was Merlin, and he did. He knew the delicate Queen Anne’s lace meant safety and complexity. He knew delphinium meant attachment, and daffodils were unrequited love. Merlin knew all the things he would confess, if he bothered with confessions. And so he put them into one and arranged it the best he could. He kept a tally of all the costs he threw away this time but he couldn’t gather the energy to care.

“I think you should keep it and try to forget about him for the day. The weather’s horrid. You should go home and call up your girlfriend and watch a movie or something.” Merlin tried for a smile, but he was already aware of the stack of papers that was impossibly bigger than when he’d left it. “Hope your birthday gets better Arthur. If you need someone, I’ll be here until seven.”

“Merlin, seven was twenty minutes ago.” Arthur didn’t hide his curiosity when he noticed the bags under Merlin’s eyes and the sweat breaking out on his forehead. “You look as miserable as I feel.”

“Yeah, well, we aren't all glamorous.” Merlin leaned back in his chair and frowned at his flower spotted apron. He wasn't supposed to wear the damned thing unless he was in the kitchen, but he always had liked his aprons. He tended to wear them all day. Which could be embarrassing. “I’m sick. I only showed up because I have real work to do. Not all of us can sit around watching fancy offices.”

Arthur snorted. “I don’t watch anything remotely fancy or office-like. I work in the parking garage over that way for some boring company that makes knees. I spend most of my day watching people drive by too quickly for me to make out their badge.” Arthur looked down at his hands, the frown returning. “Quit that other hellhole a few months ago, actually.”

“You mean after the disaster wedding?”

“Almost wedding. And yeah. Around then.” Arthur gave him a sideways look and shook his head. Merlin was pleased to note that he looked less pale and less hollow than when he’d walked in.

The question stirred around his mind more than once, but he hadn’t realized he was going to ask until he’d already blurted out “Why did you come here?”

Arthur’s eyes widened, a horrible mixture of surprise and hurt, before he shrugged and picked up his vase and left.

Merlin spent another ten minutes trying to not think about how idiotic he was and failed entirely to get anything useful done.

At some point in the night he woke with paper stuck to his face and his pen in his hand and all the lights in the shop on. He closed up, went home, and collapsed into bed. He dreamed of delphiniums and daffodils and warm coffee and BIPRIDE t-shirts and a laugh he hadn’t heard in a long while. He slept through his alarm twice and showed up to work two hours late, but if it’d been up to him, he’d have not gone in at all.

*****

An entire month passed before he saw Arthur again.

“If you have anything that says, ‘hey, let’s get coffee’ that’d be great.” Arthur walked in with a predatory look Merlin remembered from senior year.

His heart clenched, and he refused to feel disappointed. He’d waited on Arthur to come back for weeks now to apologize, but somehow, he didn’t think Arthur was as affected by Merlin's slip up as he’d thought. The wolfish smile certainly wasn't wounded.

“I mean, usually girls go for roses. I don’t think you need anything extravagant. Don’t you think you ought to ask her first, before buying flowers?” Merlin squinted at some flowers and ignored the headache thrumming alive at his temple. He picked a rose, still blooming, and sent a whisper of encouragement to it. It felt heavy in his hand. When he turned again, Arthur looked at him with a smile.

“I never said it was a girl, _Mer_ lin.” Arthur waved his hand around the store in a vague, sweeping motion. “What about something a guy would like? What would you like?”

Merlin nearly groaned, but managed to bite his lip and look contemplative instead. He glanced around and ignored the sinking in his stomach. He replaced the rose with a white chrysanthemum and imagined Arthur feeling confident, sure. He imagined romance and charisma. He must have still looked sick when he faced Arthur, because Arthur furrowed his brows and opened his mouth as if he was about to ask Merlin something.

“Must be a lucky fellow. You’ll have to let me know how it goes.” Merlin forced a wide grin.

For the first time in a long time, Arthur scowled at him and left his money on the counter.

Merlin always thought it would be a miracle to find out Arthur was interested in men. He’d have a chance! Only now, Merlin realized that his chance had long gone and even now, Merlin didn’t even register to Arthur.

He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. After all, it’s not like this was the first time Merlin had been disappointed by his high expectations of the prat.

******

Arthur continued his weekly visits as if he’d never stopped. Merlin finally started getting used to the new routine. Now, Merlin waited expectantly at closing time.

He’d finished all of his cleaning early. He'd just removed his apron and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to appreciate the sweet smell of his shop and all the flowers growing in his back room. He was well aware most florists didn't run business from magic greenhouses, but he’d always figured that if he could he should. He didn’t have any better use for his magic. His flowers brought people real joy.

His door opened, the bell clanging loudly. Arthur marched through the threshold soaked to the skin. He looked worn out and tired, but he smiled at Merlin.

“Ok, so last time didn’t work. Do you have anything that says ‘I’d really like to take you on a date you giant moron, _Mer_ lin’?” Arthur crossed his arms and dripped onto Merlin's newly cleaned floor.

“I don’t think insulting people is the best way to get a date, Arthur.” Merlin kicked off from the counter and the single rose he’d pulled before. With a little whisper of magic, it was vibrant as the day he’d first picked it. The spell stirred just as strong as before. “This should get the message across. Men are just as susceptible to cheesy romance stuff as women.”

Arthur looked at him as if slightly horrified. “You really are clueless, aren’t you?”

Merlin glared, hands on his hips as he thought of a good come back. “I’ll have you know, I’ve romanced my fair share of men. And women! There’s been Will and Freya and Elena and Gwaine and… a lot more than that!” Merlin flung his hands up, his cheeks hot with embarrassment. He had never been good at exaggerating. “I’m not the lovesick little puppy who never got over you, Arthur. I moved on and had lots of others.”

Arthur’s face was pale, the smile sliding off as easily as it had come. “Right.”

Arthur put down the rose and walked back into the rain and disappeared down the dark street.

*****

Merlin didn’t have time to pine after Arthur afterwards. The summer rush came in full swing, with July weddings wanting to see samples and June weddings wanting to get their pieces done over a dozen times. Merlin spent all day and most of the night trying to stay afloat in a world of clipped petals and sweet smells and exotic floral species. He turned the music up when it rained and resolutely did not jump whenever the door jingled open.

It wasn't his fault Arthur was a prat. The arse should have known better than to sweep in and make Merlin fall in love all over again. What did Arthur expect him to do when Arthur had moved on and shoved it in Merlin’s face? What could Arthur have possibly gained from crashing into Merlin’s life again after five years and smashing through all of his progress? He’d just moved on and found someone else, right under Merlin’s nose.

Ok, maybe whenever he had a lull in orders, a moment to breathe and think, maybe Merlin thought Arthur hadn’t really said anything too bad. Maybe Arthur thought Merlin would be happy for him. Maybe Arthur hadn’t known about Merlin's feelings because Merlin had never told him. Maybe Arthur hadn’t even realized until then that Merlin was admitting to being bisexual now. It’s not like Merlin had ever said as much to Arthur himself.

Always, before those lulls went on for too long, and Merlin had the time to think to himself that Arthur had probably only wanted a _friend_ like he’d thought Merlin was, Merlin would pick up another order ue soon and he would plan and grow and trim and forget to think about it anymore.

Summer rush and summer weddings meant Merlin was busy even when he wasn’t. He fell asleep in the shop enough that he woke for a week straight to a customer knocking on the door. Invariably, he’d have something stuck to his face when he answered.

It was mid-July when he woke up to knocking and found Gwen on the other side of the glass, biting her lip in the way that she only did when something was wrong. She didn’t even wait for him to reach the door before she started to speak, her hands fluttering around her like nervous birds.

“Merlin, have you heard from Arthur?” She nearly jumped into the shop, looking around wildly as if she expected Arthur to be hiding behind a bouquet.

“What? No. Not in a while at least. He works down at the knee place just a bit up the road.” Merlin pointed in the general direction Arthur always walked from.

“Not anymore. He quit a couple of weeks ago.” She continued biting her lip, hopping on her feet. “He told me he’d call me, but he hasn’t. He should have started back at Pendragon Inc. this week but… Morgana said she hasn’t heard from him.”

“Well, yes, but why would Morgana hear from him if he’s working with Uther?” Merlin frowned, trying not to look at Gwen like she'd missed the obvious. From her irritated huff, he failed. “I mean, Morgana hates Uther.”

“Yes, Merlin, and usually, I would agree, but since…” Gwen stopped, looking horrified. “He said he’d been coming here and talking to you. What did he tell you about quitting his father’s company?”

“Well, he said he quit that hellhole and now he’s a security guard.” Merlin shifted on his feet. “I think he kind of implied it had something to do with a failed wedding.”

“Yes, Merlin. My failed wedding.” Now Gwen was looking at him like this should have been obvious. “My failed wedding to him.”

“Your what?” Merlin recalled Arthur's vehemence when he called the “potential husband” a twat. He recalled disdain and anger. Arthur had clarified, each time, the _almost_ wedding. “You almost married Arthur? But why—”

“No, no. Absolutely not. This isn’t my thing to tell. Morgana would kill me. You need to talk to Arthur, Merlin. And you need to talk to him now.” Gwen looked around the shop, noting it's miraculous emptiness. Most summer days, people barged in the moment the doors opened.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Arthur wants to talk to me.” He resisted her hand tugging him along and out the door, but she was stronger than she looked. “Oh wait, does that mean you ended up with Morgana? Congratulations, I think.”

Morgana was terrifying, but if anyone appreciated her, Gwen did.

“Yes, congratulations to me. Listen up. I know you and Arthur have had your big fall outs, but he happy again because of you. Whatever happened, you two can work it out.”

Merlin squawked as she shoved him into a car. “I didn’t close up the shop. Someone’ll come by and steal all the flowers.”

Gwen glared at him and wiggled her fingers in what he assumed was meant to be a signal for magic. “And I don’t think people’s first idea of thievery is flowers, Merlin.”

“Hey, some species in there are very rare.” He crossed his arms, before realizing the gesture made him look petulant and tucking his to his sides instead. “They’re worth quite a bit of money.”

“Of course they are Merlin. Which is why you’ve already locked the door. Now, I’m taking you to Arthur’s. You’re not leaving until you’ve figured out why he’s skipped work and worried my girlfriend. And me.”

“Right. You know, I think you might be better suited for this than I am. I mean, he seems to genuinely like you.” Merlin clutched the side of the car as Gwen skidded around a turn. “And I think he’s a little afraid of Morgana. If you tag-teamed him, you might be able to get him to stop being a big baby and go to work.”

“You are clueless, sometimes, Merlin.” Gwen shook her head. They didn’t talk for the rest of the short drive.

“Buzz in to 112B. He’ll let you in.”

“You don’t understand, Gwen. He hasn’t been to see me in over a month.” But no one heard him because Gwen was already driving off. “Thanks Gwen, you’re a real friend.” He sighed and smashed his thumb on the button.

Gwen was right, Arthur did let him up.

Merlin found the flat after he navigated through a ridiculous common area into an even more ridiculous hallway, and up an elevator that played good music and didn’t whir or wheeze or shake. Arthur’s room was the third down a long hallway. Merlin was surprised Arthur didn’t have a whole floor to himself.

He’d barely pressed a knuckle to the door when it creaked open and Arthur stepped out, careful to conceal the inside of the apartment. Merlin shifted on his feet. He didn’t want to argue in the hallway.

“So, Gwen says you haven’t been to work and somehow that’s my fault and I’m supposed to fix it.” Merlin didn’t look up, watching the toe of his sneaker push into carpet that was weirdly white. It didn’t look like anyone had ever stepped on it before.

“Well, you know, Gwen’s heart is too big for her head. You made your message pretty clear. You can go on now, I’d rather not humiliate myself further. My pride’s not good at taking hits.” Arthur leaned against his door, one hand still wrapped around his doorknob.

“She kind of abandoned me here until I figure it out. And any second now it should—” As Merlin spoke, thunder boomed outside. “Yeah, that.”

“What the hell? It was a clear sky when I looked out a second ago.” Arthur looked towards his room like he would be able to see through the window if he tried hard enough, despite the door in the way.

“Must be something about us, I guess,” Merlin mumbled. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to blow up on you before, it’s just… I thought when you first showed up that you were trying to be friends again. And I was fine with it. Really. And I’m sure you weren’t trying to,” Merlin closed his eyes. “I’m sure you weren’t trying to get me to fall in love with you again, but it’s _you_ Arthur. I looked forward to when you’d show up and tried to remember what it sounds like when you laugh and guessed what kind of bouquet you’d ask for. I think about you all the time, and dammit, I thought I was over it, but there you were and here I am.”

Arthur didn’t say anything at first. When he did, he spoke slowly, as if trying to stop each word before it escaped. “You said you moved on. I thought, after what happened… I thought you decided you were through with me.”

“Arthur, that was over five years ago. We were both young and I was a bit reckless. I shouldn’t have tried to pressure you. I wouldn’t, if I could change it.” Merlin opened his eyes, forcing himself to keep his gaze level with Arthur’s. “I'm your friend no matter what, Arthur. I’m sorry I messed that up.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry too. For, you know, my part.” Arthur looked down the hall, and shrugged, as if giving up on something. “Want to come inside?”

Merlin tried not to think that Arthur looked embarrassed and instead concentrated on imagining how expensive Arthur’s apartment looked. He nodded. Arthur took a deep breath.

When the door opened, Merlin was at first struck by how nice it smelled. It smelled a lot like his shop, except a bit dustier, a bit heavier. He stepped inside and stopped.

In every corner and every surface were flowers. Not just any flowers. Merlin recognized them. Each one.

_Make it something nice._

_Do you have anything that says ‘I am really sorry for being an ass, but also it’s probably not going to change?’_

_What about something that says ‘I like you but not in a romantic way or at all?’_

_Do you have anything appropriate for a business acquaintance’s birthday?_

_I kind of need something simple._

Some flowers were in bunches and some lay individually, but every one of them looked as new as the day he’d sold them. They decorated the tables and behind the furniture and around the floor and adorned every shelf and lit up the windows. Merlin saw nearly every flower he’d sold to Arthur, thriving in this strange home.

Some were in new vases and some weren’t, but none of them wilted.

“Why do you have all my flowers here?” Merlin hadn’t moved from the doorway. Arthur’s face was cherry red, his hand in his hair as he tried to come up with an explanation.

“Well, they don’t ever seem to die. And I really like them, so I don’t see why I should get rid of them.”

“But why did you keep coming in to buy flowers? You have enough here to open your own shop, Arthur.” Merlin tried to count the bouquets and arrangements and stopped after his heart started to flutter.

“Well, I thought it would have been obvious. Apparently not.”

“Arthur, answer the question,” Merlin snapped, then blushed. “I mean, I clearly have been very clueless.”

“I like you, you idiot. I’ve been trying to ask you out for months now.” Arthur frowned, gesturing in every direction. “I mean, did you honestly think I needed this many flowers for anything, ever?”

“You’d be surprised how many people buy flowers. I have some customers that buy daily flowers ahead of time for their spouses.” Merlin blushed. “Not really your style though.”

“Yes, clearly.” Arthur moved over to the couch and sank into the cushion, burying his head in his hands. “I came in after the wedding. I was a bit desperate. Everyone I knew was mad about Gwen, and about the way I’d handled it. I needed someone to talk to that didn’t hate me. Or at least, didn’t hate me for that.”

“So you came to my flower shop? I mean, you didn’t look like you expected me to be there.” Merlin recalled the way Arthur had scowled at him.

“It had been five years, Merlin. I’d forgotten… Anyway, I showed up and I meant to just talk to you about what happened but you smiled at me like you just wanted me to leave so I bought the flowers and left.”

“But you came back.”

Arthur scowled again, and Merlin almost chuckled. “Yes, I did come back, because I really did need something to get my dad off my back. He kept trying to convince me to come back to the company, and I couldn’t figure out what to do, and then I’d remembered how well the apology flowers worked. Then I saw you getting yelled at and decided to help.”

Merlin tilted his head. “It had nothing to do with wanting to talk to me?”

“Of course it did, don’t be an idiot.” Arthur’s scowl deepened. “But then you were all soft about the wedding and you got upset over the past and I just… ran away.”

“Hm,” was Merlin’s only reply.

“Yes, I know, just like old times. Blah blah, we have issues. But I was trying to move past them, Merlin.”

“Why’d you quit your dad’s company?” Merlin didn’t really want to talk about the past. He’d come here because Arthur wasn’t working and he needed to make Arthur go back. "Are you actually going back?"

“I didn’t. He kind of fired me. I came out, told him I was interested in guys. It was after the failed wedding and meeting you again and I just didn’t feel like pretending anymore. I was supposed to go back but I just can't.” Arthur didn’t look at him. “When I was first fired I got a job through Lance. Started trying to date around but it wasn’t any good. I think I knew even then that I didn’t want just anyone.”

“And then you found some pretty guy and fell in love and went to my shop to rub it in?” Merlin couldn’t think through the blood pulsing in his head. All the pieces were coming together and Merlin was quite sure that he’d assumed wrong. “And I blew up on you and here we are.”

“No, _Mer_ lin. You assumed I found some other guy. I was trying to ask you on a date. Apparently, specifying that I meant _you_ wasn’t clear enough to make it through that thick skull of yours.” Arthur glared at Merlin for a moment before he looked back down at his hands. “Then you said that you’d moved on, that you didn’t wait for me. And to be honest, Merlin, I never expected you to. But all that time, I never saw anyone waiting on you. I never saw anyone close to you, kissing you or holding your hands and I just… hoped.” Arthur shrugged.

“You are an absolute idiot,” was all Merlin managed to say before he kissed Arthur like he’d wanted to since senior year.

“I should have kissed you in high school,” Arthur mumble into his mouth, warm hands sliding up Merlin’s shoulders.

“Then we wouldn’t be here, would we?” Was the last thing Merlin said before they stopped talking entirely.

Merlin found he didn’t mind the wait so much, if it meant that they could both be ready for this like they hadn't been in high school. Kissing in a room full of flowers did have a certain charm that a muddy school lot never would.

 

 


End file.
